


Sweet Little Lies

by weestarmeggie



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Albus Dumbledore Bashing, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blow Jobs, F/M, Manipulative Relationship, NSFW, Order of the Phoenix Bashing (Harry Potter), Semi-Public Sex, Smut, Tags Contain Spoilers, Vaginal Fingering, Voldemort kept his good looks, volmione - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:14:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28463676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weestarmeggie/pseuds/weestarmeggie
Summary: If Hermione tells Harry she's fine one more time, he might have to visit the new counsellor and complain.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Tom Riddle, Hermione Granger/Tom Riddle | Voldemort, Hermione Granger/Voldemort
Comments: 9
Kudos: 128
Collections: Poisoned Kiss Under the Mistletoe Tomione Secret Santa 2020





	Sweet Little Lies

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rhysenne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhysenne/gifts).



> Hi - my prompt was; Voldemort captures a Hogwarts-age Hermione. Both prisoner!Hermione and captor!Voldemort try to manipulate each other. Eventual romance. Hermione Granger finally returns to Hogwarts from her long disappearance... but with a secret. Dumbledore & Order bashing. Squicks; Pregnancy and Non-Con.  
> I hope my giftee enjoys. Happy Birthday Tom, Happy Tomione day and Happy New Year.  
> This is unbeta'ed and all mistakes remain my own.

Harry stared at his best friend and did his hardest not to roll his eyes. He was already biting the inside of his cheek so he didn’t grin and laugh at her as she did her damndest to tell him she really was  _ fine _ . 

It was adorable, even if it was infuriating. 

But there was a plan, Harry knew and had agreed to the plan and so, he simply sat there nodding his head and biting his cheek and let Hermione tell him she was fine. 

That everything would be ok.

When she gathered up her books from their shared table at the back of the library, told Harry she had to check in with her  _ counsellor _ and that she’d see him at dinner, he’d let her. 

And when Malfoy ended his disillusion charm, stepped out of the shadows and slipped into the empty seat beside him, Harry did his best not to hex the blond for laughing at him as he slumped forward in his chair and let his head bang the table with a thunk.

“I see she’s committed to her ‘ _ I’m fine’ _ routine.”

Harry glanced at his cousin, his friend and confident from the corner of his eye. 

“She’s going to be the death of me. I was sure she’d have started in on the anti-order and Dumbledore propaganda by now,” Harry said, sitting back and stroking a hand through his hair in frustration. “We only have a few more weeks of school left. We’re supposed to be much further along in the plan than we are.”

Draco slapped his hand against Harry’s shoulder and sighed. “It’ll be fine.”

Harry bit his tongue and glared at him, even as he gathered up his own belongings and shoved them into his bag. “If one more person tells me that…” he trailed off pointedly and Draco laughed again, standing from the table. 

“Sorry. Look, go and see the  _ councillor _ . He should be able to speed things along, at the very least get her to say something more than  _ fine _ .” He tugged his own bag up onto his shoulder and stepped back as Harry stood too. “Maybe you need to be more proactive. Let her know how fed up you are with Dumbledore and his  _ plans _ . Sow some ideas in her mind that you might be open to being swayed.”

Harry snorted and hummed his assent, jerking his head goodbye at Malfoy before turning on his heel and exiting the library.

* * *

It had taken Voldemort two years, one month and sixteen days to mould Hermione Granger from Harry Potter's muggleborn best friend, determined to wipe him from the face of the earth, into Harry Potter's muggleborn best friend, determined to inform young Harry of the truth Dumbledore and his lackeys in the Order of the Phoenix had been feeding him for six years. 

She wasn’t to know that Voldemort had already  _ turned _ young Harry and revealed the truth to him a few years ago, but it was important that she have this task. It would prove to Voldemort that the time they'd spent together had been worth it. 

For months and months she’d screamed and refused to believe, to even hear him speak to her and when she’d finally relented, he’d been very careful with her mind. 

He didn’t want her to only acquiesce out of fear, not when he wanted her by his side for all eternity. 

When she strode into the office he’d commandeered under a heavy dose of polyjuice potion and some intricate charm work he finally allowed himself to relax. When she slipped into his arms he allowed himself a single moment to appreciate the warmth that was seeping from her body. 

He nudged her head back and she met his eye, dropping the occlumency walls that he’d helped her build when she’d been with him. He watched the numerous confrontations she’d had with Potter and snorted at how obviously eager the young wizard was during their interactions. 

Merlin, for all her brains she really was quite oblivious. 

He pulled back and tugged her onto his lap as he dropped into his own chair. He cupped her chin, fingers stroking across her jaw and brushed his lips over hers gently. 

“You’re doing so well sweetheart.” He needed to boost her confidence; encourage her to be more forward with her friend. He knew Potter was getting bored waiting to be  _ kidnapped _ himself. 

“I’m so proud of all the progress you’ve made.” She shuddered in his embrace and Voldemort resisted the urge to rut up into her like a horny teenager; Hermione looked up at him from beneath her lashes and he knew that’s exactly what she’d intended. 

He gripped her thigh with his free hand and glared at her. “Wait.”

She huffed up at him but stopped squirming. Sighing she said, “I’m worried that if I mention anything to him he’s going to escort me to Dumbledore and…” she trailed off. 

Voldemort had shown her plenty of instances of Dumbledore  _ punishing _ his naysayers. He didn't blame her for her cautiousness. He loosed his grip on her thigh and turned her in his lap, stroking his hands up her thighs, over her arse—giving it a squeeze for good measure in the process—and up her back until he was grasping the back of her neck in one hand and tangling the other in her hair, angling her face up to his once more.

“Have some faith in your friend,” he said. Hermione loosened her hands from where she’d wrapped them around his neck and stroked them down his chest. She nodded and he continued. “Perhaps Potter is more amenable than you think. After all, it’s not like you’re lying when you’re exposing all of Dumbledore’s machinations.” 

She blinked up at him, eyes wide and pupils blown, an expression he’d put on her face more times than he could count when he’d allowed her to slip her hot little mouth around the head of his prick and swallow him down till his seed was spurting down her throat and from the corners of her mouth. 

He shook himself from the memory and realised she was speaking. 

“—right, of course. I just—” she broke off, staring at a spot over his shoulder. Voldemort pulled her bottom lip from between his teeth and resisted the urge to groan.

“Tell me.”

She flicked her eyes to his once more and straightened where she sat, still in his lap. “Harry is my very best friend. I just want him to be okay. To be safe and protected and  _ loved _ .” 

Voldemort did his best not to snort. 

She had no idea. 

Instead he said, “Of course. And he will. I’m sure it will be fine.” 

She nodded once more but when she opened her mouth again he took the opportunity to press his own to hers. He slipped his tongue into her mouth and smirked when he felt her sigh and relax into the kiss, her own tongue flicking against his. 

She shifted in his lap and ground her panty covered cunt against his straining erection. Her hands, which had lingered at the hem of his jumper slid further down until she was flicking open his trousers, sliding down his zipper and slipping her hand into the placket of his trousers. 

He groaned without thought when she wrapped her hand around his cock and when he felt her lips tilt up into a smirk he growled and slipped his own hands beneath the fabric of her skirt. His fingers slipped the soaked piece of fabric between her thighs out of the way before they slid through her slick folds and carefully circled her clit without touching it. 

She bucked in his arms, pleading, “Please.”

He nipped her throat, soothing the bites with his tongue. “Please, what?” He traced her opening with the tips of his fingers, sliding the slick that was dripping from her up towards her clit. “What do you want Hermione?” He scraped his nail over her clit and bit down into the juncture of her neck. “Tell me,” he said even as she fell apart in his arms. 

“That was mean,” Hermione managed to whimper. 

She was still shaking in his arms, coming down from her high, laving kisses against his collarbone and lazily stroking his cock, when there was a knock at his door. 

Hermione didn’t move but Voldemort turned his head towards the sound, smirking as he called out, “Who is it?” 

“Professor?” 

Hermione stilled in his arms and Tom turned his face back to meet her eye. She had paled dramatically. 

“It’s Harry Potter—” a pause “— _ Sir.  _ I was wondering if we might be able to have a chat.” 

Hermione was shaking for a whole other reason now, eyes flicking between him and the door as she vehemently shook her head. 

“You told me I could come to you at any time?”

Voldemort stared down at Hermione and lifted an eyebrow. 

He shifted his leg and lifted her from his lap. He waved his hand in her general direction, wandlessly and wordlessly casting a cleansing charm over her, as he tucked himself away. 

“Of course, Mr. Potter,” he said, standing and striding towards the door.

Hermione gathered her bag and quickly rolled her hair up into a bun, hissing, “What the hell?” as she stomped past him and opened the door herself with a wide smile for her best friend. 

“Harry. Is everything ok?” she asked, and Voldemort recognised the  _ good girl _ pose she’d adopted and resisted the urge to snort.

Harry nodded, smirking at Voldemort as he met the older man’s eye when he stepped past Hermione. 

He dropped into the visitor chair and turned his head over his shoulder to look at her. “Of course, Hermione,” he said. “Everything’s  _ fine _ .”

They both laughed when they heard Hermione huffing from the other side of the slammed door. 


End file.
